


friends won't love me like you

by cheekaspbrak



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, His Parents Suck, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecure Richie Tozier, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Richie Tozier and Mike Wheeler Are Cousins, also hopper is a good dad, but don't worry because mike & him are gonna be bffs, but it is majorly about mike & richie's relationship, don't get me wrong this is a reddie fic, he has yet to meet eddie, him and mike are 16, hopper ain't dead or in russia bc fuck that, nancy is in college, no one takes care of him, none of that 'angry hopper' nonsense from s3, these tags better post in the right order or i swear to god
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-05 09:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheekaspbrak/pseuds/cheekaspbrak
Summary: Nobody is happy about Richie moving to Hawkins, Indiana. Not Richie, not Mike, not Nancy, not the Losers, and not even (though she would desperately deny it) Karen Wheeler. Nobody.When Richie meets a cute boy in that shithole with a fiery personality who absolutely hates being called 'Eds', well, maybe he's just a little happy.I'm not going to lie and pretend like this wasn't entirely inspired by "Life on Mars" by littlepessimist. It totally was. I've always wanted to write a crossover fic but their story inspired me to finally sit down and do it. While I plan to take this in an entirely different direction, I need to give them some credit for getting the creative juices flowing. If you haven't read their story yet, please, please do so. It is phenomenal, and a thousand times better than anything I've ever written.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Life on Mars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843990) by [littlepessimist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlepessimist/pseuds/littlepessimist). 

> I'm not going to lie and pretend like this wasn't entirely inspired by "Life on Mars" by littlepessimist. It totally was. I've always wanted to write a crossover fic but their story inspired me to finally sit down and do it. While I plan to take this in an entirely different direction, I need to give them some credit for getting the creative juices flowing. If you haven't read their story yet, please, please do so. It is phenomenal, and a thousand times better than anything I've ever written.  
That being said, I hope you enjoy my version of a Stranger Things/IT crossover and where I plan on taking it!

Teenagers are the absolute worst. There’s no doubt about it. Even as a teenager himself, Richie could admit that all teenagers, including him, sucked.

They just didn’t suck enough to outright punch in the face. Wentworth Tozier, however, would disagree. You see, ever since Richie was little, good ol’ Went had been walking the line. It started with spanks on the bottom at birthday parties and family events, then escalated to open-hand slaps in the grocery store, then onto backhands hard enough to leave bruises people rarely questioned. It finally ended with one solid punch to the jaw when an argument developed into something bordering between drunken anger and pure, black hatred. It had never happened in public before, and it never would again, because Went was being dragged away from the Tozier family picnic by the same police officers who had once told Richie there was nothing they could do if he wasn’t caught in the act. They had told Richie to just wait it out until he was eighteen and then he’d be free to run as far away from home as he wanted. It was amazing how little adults cared, truly. Countless bystanders had seen the open-hand slaps and bruises and had stared in shock, only to decide it was much easier to not get involved. They’d convince themselves that it was only a one-time, spur of the moment mistake. Maybe they’d even convince themselves that it had never happened in the first place, that their eyes had failed them. Then they’d grab the bag of green beans and check out and leave little Richie all alone.

He was vaguely aware of the gentle hand on his shoulder belonging to a distant cousin of his. She was trying to pull him towards her to get a good look at the side of his face the punch had landed on. Her thumb awkwardly brushed over his sideburns, then ghosted over his jawline.

“I can’t take you in, little man, I’m sorry.” She- Patty, maybe?- spoke softly, guilt laced in her tone. He stared at her for a beat before realization hit him. His father was arrested for abuse, and his mother would be considered negligent, leaving him with nothing. He was alone. All of those years spent imagining the grandeur of ‘being alone’ collapsed down around him. ‘Being alone’ meant so much more than no curfew and escaping his parents home, it meant a foster home and leaving his friends behind and potentially suffering more abuse at the hands of the foster care system. 

Patty’s eyes followed his gaze as he turned his head to see Maggie sitting in a plastic lawn chair, slumped like a child put into timeout. She was looking at one of the officers towering above her, answering his questions calmly. He wondered, when the buzz wore off later, if she’d realize the gravity of what had just happened. Maybe she’d cheer and wave her arms in the air at the news.  _ Free at last! _

* * *

Karen Wheeler needed a manicure desperately. Her pretty burgundy polish had fallen victim to her restless picking habit, resulting in unkempt nails. The little flakes of peeled polish laid before her on the dining table, mimicking blood spatter. The thought made her sick, her stomach rolling over and thoughts she didn’t want to think about crowding into her mind. She swiped the flakes into her cupped palm and walked to the trash can to toss them away.

“Mom?” A sweet voice called from the front entrance, and Karen sighed quietly. She loved Friday afternoons more than anything in this world. Friday’s were the days when Nancy came home after her last class instead of her dorm and stayed for dinner. Never had Karen realized just how difficult it would be when Nancy moved away. They had only 35 minutes to themselves before Mike came through the door and then another 45 before Karen had to start with dinner. She cherished every moment that her daughter sat in the kitchen with her and discussed different topics from her relationship with Jonathan to Mrs. Kealing down the street. Today, however, there was a different, much more important matter at hand. 

“I’m in here, honey! How was school?” She poured her daughter a glass of water and slid it across the counter as she hung her bag on the rack. Karen loved having a clean house with a spot for everything. 

“It was okay. Professor Dunning was impressed with my piece on the Rotary Club Supreme Court case. He called it ‘New York Times- esque’,” She shrugged and gratefully took a sip of the water. 

“Impressive,” Karen remarked, but she couldn’t mask that her thoughts were elsewhere. 

“How was your day?” Nancy asked cautiously, sensing the tension in the air.

“Do you remember your Aunt Mags? And Uncle Went?” Nancy nodded, brow cocked in curiosity, “Well, they had a son, Richie. You never met him because I stopped talking to them when I was pregnant with Mike.”

“How old is he?” Nancy questioned.

“I think he’s sixteen, I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter,” Her lips pressed into a thin, firm line. There was no guide for how to talk about these kinds of things, “What matters is that Uncle Went was arrested for… for abusing him. He’s all alone, and we’re the only family he has.”

There was a strain in the room. Nancy narrowed her eyes like she always does when she is solving a puzzle in her head. She sucked in a breath, suddenly finding her glass of water very eye-catching.

“They want you to take him in, don’t they?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already written chapters three and four, but I want to make sure this story is one people want to hear more from before continuing. I already have a lot of ideas about what I want to do but we'll see where the story takes me!

Richie played music loudly in his walkman, but not loud enough to cover the sounds of the awkward silence hanging in the park. He could hear Bill humming a tune repeatedly to occupy his mind and Bev was taking long drags of her cigarette to stop herself from saying something stupid, or crying, which would be even worse. Even Stan, who usually favored the quiet, was tapping his fingers against his thigh restlessly. Ironically, Richie seemed to be the only one comfortable in the quiet. He was soaking in this moment- his walkman, his friends, and the stillness of the sky just before the sun completely disappeared beyond the edge of the earth.

“C’mon, you guys,” he said, pausing the music, “This is your last time to soak in the Tozier Show before it moves onto the next town, we should be having fun!”

“Shut the fuck up, Rich,” Bev said with no real bite. In fact, her voice sounded choked. She put her cigarette out on the ground and scooted over to where Richie was laying on his back, much to Bill’s dismay. Bill and Bev had a thing going, but neither of them ever said anything. It made Richie uncomfortable. She picked his head up violently, plopping it into her lap and making up for the sudden movement by soothingly running her fingers through his curls.

“Feisty,” He grumbled, yanking the sleeves of his yellow flannel down, tying it haphazardly around his waist, “I’m sorry, Bevvy. Now’s the time to admit your unrequited love for me.”

A hand came down on the side of his face, ever so gently and carefully avoiding the bruise on his jaw, “You already know I love you, and it isn’t unrequited if you love me back, jackass.”

“Sorry, dear. I have one true love, and I think you all know-”

“No! N-no masturbation juh-jokes. And no jokes about my mom.” Bill said loudly, an exasperated sigh tacked onto the end. His stutter that was so infuriating to Richie in elementary school had died down, only appearing now when he was flustered.

“Or mine,” Stan added.

“Just let us have this,” Bev returned to the conversation, untangling a knot from his hair, “This is the last time we’ll see you.”

Richie smiled up at her goofily, poking at her cheek, “I’m not dying. I’ll stay in touch, you have my new address and number, and who knows? Maybe I can convince my Aunt to vacation out here.”

“Good luck convincing anyone to vacation in Derry, Maine.” Stan said with a snort. Richie sat up and pointed at the ugly bruise on his face.

“Stan, I’m a child abuse victim now. I can get anyone to do anything for me if I pout long enough.” He emphasized his point by turning his lips into a frown and widening his eyes behind his already magnified glasses. 

“I’m so angry at your shit parents.” Bill said suddenly, slicing through the happy, calm night. He scooted over towards Beverly, trying to use her for comfort. She complied, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. 

“Are you excited to meet your cousins, at least?” It was Stan’s turn to speak in an attempt to tone down the tension rising.

“I think so. I don’t think the oldest one lives at home anymore, but they have a boy my age and a little girl, so… maybe that will be nice.” 

“What’s your Aunt’s name?” Richie raised an eyebrow at Bev, thinking hard.

“Well, shit. I don’t remember.” This was quickly followed by a groan from each of his friends and Bev lamenting that this was no way to make a good first impression. Richie didn’t think that showing up with a massive bruise on his face was a great way to make a good first impression either. 

* * *

“ _ Why  _ is he coming to live with us, though?” Nancy awkwardly glanced back and forth between her mom and dad, hoping one of them had an answer prepared. Ted was no help at all, opting to stab at his green beans and repeatedly failing to get one onto the fork. Karen opened and closed her mouth several times and Nancy felt the tension building.

“That’s his story to tell.” She decided on and Nancy cringed, knowing that would not be a sufficient answer for Mike.

“So you’re just going to adopt some kid and make me live with him without even telling me why?” He was only mildly infuriated, which wasn’t bad considering how much of a terror he’d been lately. He’d grown quite an attitude in the last few years, and Nancy chalked it up to the trauma he’d had to go through. She tried to be there for him, to console him and allow him space to open up to her. It never worked, though. He only pushed her further away.

Nancy rolled her eyes, college students were so much better than high schoolers. She decided to rescue her mom from Mike’s angry gaze, “Mike, I really don’t understand why you’re so upset. He’ll stay in my old room, and you’ll hardly see him because you spend most of your time at the mall, the basement, or-” She cut herself off, eyeing her mom to make sure she hadn’t caught on. Mike’s long-term girlfriend, Eleven, was still a secret. Nancy couldn’t be responsible for spilling the beans. 

“Nancy has a good point, and maybe you’ll even get along! He’s only a few months older than you, so you’ll be in the same grade. I’ve heard he loves hanging out at the arcade, so maybe you can show him the arcade here in Hawkins.” Karen gave her a look of thanks, her once nervous composure relaxing a bit.

“The arcades aren’t as fun anymore. I like the mall better.” Mike rolled the fingerling potatoes around sadly, realizing their mother wasn’t changing her mind now.

“Okay, then you can take him to the mall. I’ll even let you see Robocop with him again!” Nancy smirked. It was an R-rated film, and she knew how much Mike and his friends loved that dumb movie. 

“Can I go too?” Holly spoke up from her minutes-long concentration on the Barbie in her hands. Karen took it away, reminding her that toys weren’t allowed at the table. Ted unhelpfully parroted her words.

“No, baby, not to the movie. Maybe while they watch it, we can get some ice cream? Does that sound fun?” 

“Tomorrow?” Holly hopefully asked, a giddy, sugar-plum grin on her face. 

“No, tomorrow I’m picking up your cousin, but the day after that- once he’s well-rested- we can go.” Holly closed her eyes, mouthing words in a creepy way. Even Mike looked weirded out, squinting at her.

“Sunday?” Holly asked. She had been singing the ‘Days of The Week’ song she had learned a few years back. Karen nodded and Holly mirrored her. She looked back at her son who had deflated from angry to mildly pessimistic. 

“Promise me you’ll try to be nice to him? He’s been through a lot.” Nancy wondered just how much he  _ had  _ been through. Mike and her had both been through a lot, but never abuse from a parent. That was a different kind of trauma altogether. 

Mike sighed, looking around the table hopelessly, like he thought someone might save him. At last, he nodded his head and shoved a potato in his mouth, “Promise.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fear not! eddie will be in the next chapter!! I'm super excited to see what you think of this chapter, though!

The flight from Maine to Indiana wasn’t too bad, considering Richie had never flown on a plane in his life. Went and Maggie weren’t fans of traveling, and they also couldn’t afford it. The furthest Richie had been from home was a road trip they took to Rhode Island. He had hoped he would grow up to see spectacular places, but no, the best he got was Rhode Island and Hawkins, Indiana.

The farewell had been difficult, with Bev and Bill blubbering like idiots, throwing their arms around him and bestowing little gifts upon him. It took Stan the entire twenty minute goodbye to start crying, but when he did, he didn’t stop. Bev gave him a mixtape, of course. Bill stole a pack of his dad’s cigarettes for him, and Stan gave him a handmade key-chain that each of them had signed. It was an ugly little thing, but Richie loved it.

Richie didn’t cry until he was finally on the plane. The Flight Attendant had asked what he wanted for a drink and he just started sniffling and rubbing at his eyes until she knelt down and asked if he was okay. When he didn’t answer, she pressed some wadded up napkins into his hand and gave him a can of water. Bless her soul.

Now, Richie was solid as a rock. He’d cried away all he needed to, and wasn’t planning on letting his Aunt- whose name he still couldn’t remember- see him that way. 

All he had to do was find her in the crowd of people standing in front of the end of the jet-way, some holding up signs and others crying. He had no clue what she looked like, and vice versa. He felt like one of the Unaccompanied Minors who had been on the plane with tags hanging around their necks so the crew could easily identify them. He didn’t have a tag, though, just a few bags and a pair of beat up Converse. 

Despite having never seen her before, he knew it was her the second he laid eyes on her. She could have been his mother’s twin, but her hair was lighter and she looked younger. Which was odd, because Richie was almost certain that Maggie was the younger sister. 

He waved at her, and her expression went through a range of emotions when she first saw him. She immediately rushed to his side, fluffy hair blowing in the wind, and took the backpack off of his shoulders.

“Wow, Richie. It’s so nice to meet you! Gosh, you look so much like my son, Mike.” She bent down to hug him tightly. Richie didn’t really mind it, she smelled perfumey and sweet which was different from the smell of wine. He studied her face when she pulled back. Her eyes traced over the bruise still on his jaw and she fidgeted with the watch on her wrist.

“I’m real sorry, but I can’t remember your name.” He pulled the suitcase closer to his side and shifted on the balls of his feet. The people were starting to clear away, making him antsy.

“Oh, that’s alright. I’m Karen,” She stuttered around words for a moment, “Uh, Wheeler. Sorry. I don’t know how much your mom told you about us.”

Richie let his shoulders collapse a little, feeling more at ease now that he knew her name, “Not very much. I just know Mags really hates you.”

" Mags?” Karen laughed, ignoring the comment, “Gosh, that was her nickname when she was a toddler. I can’t believe she let you call her that.”

Richie decided that now wasn’t the best time to explain that he only called her that to rile her up.

* * *

Nancy certainly wasn’t going to miss the chance to watch the slow-motion train wreck that would happen when her cousin showed up. Sure, it could turn out perfectly fine. Maybe Mike and him would get along swimmingly. But she knew her family well, and just how badly this could go.

She had opened up her book-bag for some studying, something she rarely did in her childhood home anymore. Truth is, she never came around since starting college, only once a week for dinner. She had always thought she’d be back at the house often, but life outside of her family was fascinating. On top of that, the last few years she had spent in the home were traumatizing and only served to bring up bad memories. Some days, it was particularly bad. Her dad sometimes talked about veterans with PTSD, and she wondered if that only applied to the military. 

Hunched over her notes, she could barely concentrate. The clock was ticking, filling the room with an ominous presence that made the hairs on her arm stand up straight. She knew they should be arriving soon. Her mom was never more than ten minutes late, meaning she would be here any moment. Why was she so nervous? 

Thuds from car doors sounded outside, and she heard footsteps coming from the stairs. Mike landed at the bottom. He stared at Nancy for a while, looking just as nervous as she felt.

“It’ll be fine,” she supplied, feeling not at all like the sibling she typically was, “I’m sure you’ll like him.”

Mike didn’t say anything, but instead picked up a book from the coffee table and thumbed through it to look cool. Nancy laughed quietly at how stupid he looked.

“Hey kids! We’re home!” Karen called. She seemed surprised that they were both already downstairs. Nancy offered a hand to her mom, taking the backpack she was carrying.

“Hey, Richie. Is this yours?” The tall, dark-haired boy peeked around the door, clearly struggling with pulling the wheels over the step.  _ ‘Fucking bag’  _ he mumbled quietly, causing Nancy to gasp.

“That language isn’t welcome in this house,” Karen said in a jumble, looking guilty. She clearly had been telling him that from the moment she picked him up at the airport. Nancy took a minute to look him over. He looked quite a bit like her little brother, surprisingly. His hair curled up more and looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days, and he had less freckles, only a constellation across the bridge of his nose. He was also sporting large, square glasses that did  _ not  _ suit his face.

“Yeah, that’s my bag. Just show me where I’m staying and I can carry my stuff in there,” Nancy slung the bag over her shoulder, “Woah, big house.” He looked up incredulously, taking it all in for the first time. It was certainly a nice house, but Richie seemed more taken aback than was warranted. As his eyes trailed up the stairs, Nancy saw the bruise on his jaw for the first time. It was obviously old, it had faded to a green ring with a blue center, but it was huge. Fist-sized. “I’ll carry it up to your room, just follow me with your other bag.”

Mike’s eyes followed them up the stairs, but he didn’t make a peep from his spot on the couch.

“I’m Nancy, by the way.” She supplied, awkwardly holding onto the straps over her shoulders. She opted for more fashionable, one-shoulder bags nowadays. 

“Are you the college student?” He asked, forgoing any formal pleasantries. Nancy nodded as she pushed open the door to her old-  _ Richie’s  _ room, “Cool, so you must like to party! How old are you? Maybe you could get me some smokes? My friend Bill already gave me a pack, but those aren’t gonna last forever.”

Nancy’s brows furrowed at his blatant honesty, and she turned to look back at him, “Smoking is disgusting. And college isn’t for  _ partying, _ it’s for  _ learning. _ ”

“You’re kidding,” Richie deadpanned, but her look of disgust was unrelenting. He sighed sadly, “Well shit. Now what am I gonna do?”

“Not piss off my parents by smoking in their house.” She tossed his backpack onto the colorful quilt.

“Pastel? A  _ quilt?  _ Is this the little one’s room?”

“No, it’s my old room. Mom said she’d take you to get some decorations for it, since, you know.” Since he was only able to pack some clothes and sentimental items. Nancy looked out the window. She’d fought for her life and fired guns and beat grown-men up but she didn’t know how to handle a situation like this.

“Really?” She noted that he looked giddy, biting his lower lip between large front teeth.

“You should come meet Mike and Holly.” She was proud of herself for being adult enough to find her way out of an awkward conversation. Richie ran his hands down the front of his chest- over a white shirt with the name of a band Nancy didn’t recognize- before following her down the stairs. 

“This is Mike.” She stuck her hands out, gesturing half-heartedly to the teen who was clearly suffering from  _ ‘I’m a nervous, teenage wreck’  _ syndrome. Richie, on the other hand, was brave in his approach. He pulled Mike into a tight hug that Nancy knew he would hate. Richie stumbled as Mike angrily pushed him off. His eyes met Karen’s and she was giving him  _ the mom look _ . He grumbled an apology to Richie.

“Nice to meet you.” He told him, eyes returning to the floor.

“What? You don’t like cuddles?” Richie asked, looking genuinely disappointed by Mike’s rejection before breaking out into a grin and pinching a freckled cheek, “You’re gonna hate me then, dearie.” 

“Are you… pretending to be an old lady?” Mike asked incredulously, rolling his eyes at the terrible impression. Their similarity was even more eerie now, as they stood next to each other. Richie had a few inches on Mike, but even their mannerisms were nearly identical. 

“No, that was my Louis Armstrong impression, couldn’t you tell?”

“What?” Mike asked dumbly, but Richie had moved on, taking off his glasses and pushing them over Mike’s ears.

“Wow, you look a lot like me when I was younger.” Nancy had to admit that, with the glasses on, it looked like Richie and Mike had switched places.

“Younger? You’re only three months older than me!”

“Those three months make all the difference. Don’t get so down in the dumps, you’ll hit puberty soon enough, then you’ll be a fucking stud like me!” Nancy turned to her mother, who simply pursed her lips in response to his cursing. Had she already given up?

“You are  _ not  _ a stud. And we look _ nothing _ alike,” Mike tore the glasses off of his face and pushed them back into Richie’s hands, “Now I have a headache.”

“You remind me a lot of my friend Stan, he didn’t like me at first either, but just you wait. You’ll love me as much as he does in no time!” Nancy watched Mike’s face change from angry to determined.  _ Oh no. _ Mike was now set on disliking Richie out of spite, and Nancy was suddenly very grateful she no longer lived in the home.

Richie’s attention was suddenly snatched by Holly who was humming the same ‘Days of The Week’ song from a few nights ago in her spot on the couch, “You must be Polly,” He said, taking her hand and bending low, like royalty, to kiss it. She smiled at Karen enthusiastically. 

“Holly.” Nancy corrected, but Holly’s lips turned down into a frown.

“No. I like Polly. Like Polly Pocket.” She pointed over at her toy chest, which  _ was _ filled with a few of the tiny Polly Pocket boxes. 

“How ‘bout I call you Holly-Polly? Like roly-poly’s?” Holly scrunched up her nose in response, twirling a long, blonde hair with her finger.

“What’s a roly-poly?” Nancy leaned against the wall behind her, surprised that Holly, usually a shy, nearly mute kid was willingly talking to this strange teenager.

Richie gasped at Holly’s question, “You’re telling me you’ve never seen a roly-poly? They’re the cutest bugs to grace this planet!” Richie rolled his eyes at Holly saying  _ ‘eeeewwww!’  _ “Oh come on, sugarcup, not all bugs are bad. Just the ones that sting."

“Well, before you take Holly outside to look at roly-poly’s,” Karen cut in, a soft smile on her face, “why don’t you get settled upstairs while we wait for Ted to come home? Then you two can go outside for awhile before I serve dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, what do we think of Mike & Richie's dynamic? Anything you love or hate?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaay! Eddie's here! Also, I had no clue how to differentiate between the two Mike's so that's what I came up with, it's terrible, I'm so sorry!

_ “I don’t know, Mike, my mom is cracking down on me more and more lately. If she finds out your mom took us to see an R-rated movie she might never let me go to your house again.” _

Mike sighed into the receiver, looking aimlessly around the kitchen. The Wheelers had just returned home after Church, and the next event of the day was his forced outing to the mall with Richie and his friends. He wanted as many people there as possible to keep Richie from talking to him, and  _ maybe  _ to make him feel a little excluded. His friends were making that incredibly difficult, though. The only person he’d convinced to go so far was Dustin. The ‘Other Mike’- who went by Hanlon when the two Mike’s were in the same room- had only given a ‘maybe’, and now Eddie was being difficult, too.

“Come on, Eddie, it’ll be so fun! Your mom won’t find out, I promise. And you’ll get to meet my cousin.” 

_ " _ _ You started off this phone call by telling me how awful he is, why would I want to meet him?”  _ Mike rolled his eyes, it was no secret that he and Eddie didn’t always get along. Eddie didn’t comply with Mike’s executive decisions, opting to contradict him and question his leadership. It was annoying, but he  _ did  _ love Eddie as much as he loved all of his friends.

“You’ll want to meet him so we can all make fun of him later. He’s an idiot. And he wears these huge, dorky glasses. It’s hilarious,” There was a small laugh and several seconds of silence from Eddie, “I’ll buy you a pack of Red Vines.”

_ “Fine, but only if you don’t take any from me. Get your own pack.” _

“Deal! You’re the best! Meet us in front of the mall at 6!” Mike hung up and looked at the little black book they kept all the phone numbers in. Who next? 

He managed to get a solid group of Dustin, Hanlon, Will, Lucas, Ben, and Eddie. Much to Lucas’ dismay, his girlfriend couldn’t make it, making this a girl free night. Will would be thrilled, considering he usually felt left out, not even like a ‘third wheel’, but more like a wheel that had fallen off altogether. Mike and Lucas had gotten better at including him, but Mike knew he still felt lonely from time to time. The only one feeling lonely tonight would be Richie, Mike would make sure of that.

* * *

Richie would never admit that he liked to make good first impressions. Most people assumed he couldn’t care less what people thought of him, but that was far from the truth. He loved to make people laugh, loved to watch their faces contort into shock and nervous laughter. Turns out the Wheelers were hard nuts to crack when it came to that. Nancy, Karen, and Ted were constantly shooting him disapproving looks instead of laughter, and Mike seemed to not only be annoyed at him, but he  _ hated  _ him as well. 

He really hoped Mike’s friends wouldn’t be the same way. His dark curls were perfectly unkempt, he made sure of that before he left the house. He cleaned his glasses and wore an obnoxious yellow and blue pullover. Bev always accused him of trying to garner attention by dressing that way and well, she wasn’t wrong.

Karen dropped them off at the front of the mall before driving away to park the car. She wanted to give Richie and Mike space to get along, which certainly wasn’t going to happen with the glare Mike was shooting at him.

“You don’t have to come with us. You can walk to the arcade, it’s just down the street.” Mike tried his best to sound like he was doing Richie a favor with the suggestion, but it was transparent.

“And miss Robocop? No way, my dude. Also I can’t wait to meet all of your dorky friends.” They arrived at the entrance and Richie leaned his back against the wall of the large building.

“Hey, they’re not dorky!” Mike’s brow furrowed as he caught the attention of some bystanders with his outburst. He crossed his arms angrily and narrowed his eyes at his cousin.

“Dorky isn’t bad, Mikey. I like dorky.”

“ _ Don’t  _ call me Mikey.” Richie stuck his tongue out at the irate boy and Mike flipped him off in return.

“Mike!” A short boy with a terrible bowl cut was running towards them, arms outstretched and a big smile on his face.

“Will!” Mike shouted back, meeting him in the middle with a hug.

“Stop making a scene, lovebirds!” He called loudly, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure as many people as possible heard it. He added in some sound effects, a squeaky bed, for example. Some groups of kids nearby giggled loudly at the display, making him triumphantly grin.

The new kid- Will- blushed a deep shade of red and shyly walked over to greet Richie, “Ignore him, he’s an asshole,” Mike grumbled as he followed close behind. 

“Mike!” Will scolded, rolling his eyes and waving at Richie, “You’re Mike’s cousin? You could be his twin. Just wait ‘til everyone else meets you!”

“We don’t look  _ that  _ much alike,” Mike was tense, on guard. Richie wondered what he could have possibly done to make him hate him so much. 

Richie met Dustin, Ben, Mike- known as Hanlon, and Lucas all at once. The only person left was one named Eddie, who, according to Lucas, was never this late. They were all staring at their watches impatiently, Dustin griping about missing the previews, when Richie caught sight of a short boy with brown hair and a fanny pack bounding towards them, wheezing. Despite his disheveled appearance- blotchy, red skin, sweaty forehead, and untied shoes- Richie thought he was possibly the cutest person he had ever seen. 

“I’m so, so sorry I’m late. Ma was giving me a hard time before I left. I biked as fast as I could,” Richie stared for several minutes in shock. No  _ way  _ this cute kid could be a friend of Mike’s. No way.

“You’re Eddie? I’m Richie. Pleased to meetcha.” 

“Holy shit, you look a lot like Mike.” Eddie said, shaking Richie’s outstretched hand, “You bitched about his glasses on the phone for  _ five  _ minutes but didn’t bother to mention he’s like your long lost twin?”

“Hey! My glasses take offense to that,” Richie pouted at Mike.

“He doesn’t look like me!” 

“I think we look a lot alike. ‘Cept I’m an older, much better looking version of you,” He turned back to Eddie who was smiling at Mike’s annoyance, “Don’t you agree, Eds?” Richie asked in a whisper, tacking on a wink. Eddie instantly went from amused to flustered and angry.

“What kind of shit nickname is that?” came his irritated response, pulling his arms up to cross them.

“What do you people have against nicknames? Sheesh!” 

* * *

Eddie’s gaze was shifting back and forth between Richie and Mike. Mike was to his left, shoveling spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream into his mouth angrily, as usual. Richie was across the booth, obscenely licking his spoon in a way that made Eddie turn red and Will burst into a fit of giggles. Despite the difference in their auras, they looked uncannily alike.

“Would you  _ please  _ stop doing that?” Mike grimaced and Will tried to stifle his laughter. There was a weird sort of competition happening between Mike and Richie, and everybody could sense it. To be fair, it didn’t seem like Richie even knew there was a competition he was playing in, he was just naturally boisterous and funny. Mike, on the other hand, oozed jealousy, and nobody wanted to like Richie too much in fear that Mike would feel betrayed.

Eddie, on the other hand, paid no mind to this tension. He was allowed to like whoever he pleased, and it just so happened that he  _ really  _ liked Richie. They had started a back and forth banter, where Eddie pretended to be annoyed by nearly everything he said, but he really found most of it funny. 

“Stop what?” Richie teased, licking the handle of his spoon all the way to the top, swiping off the bit of fudge left on it.

“I’m telling my mom,” Mike countered, huffing and leaning back against the booth.

“Telling mom, really Mike? How old are we?” Lucas laughed, breaking off a piece of the banana in his shared Banana Split with Dustin.

“So you’re from Maine? What’s that like?” Mike Hanlon asked politely, fairly unbothered by all the bickering and obscenity. 

“It’s a shithole, honestly. I’d say Derry is a little bigger than this town, but it’s  _ way _ shittier. I have the best friends in the world, though. No offense, Mike, your friends are actually pretty amazing,” He paused to shoot a grin at everyone there, “And even better, nobody is here to pick on me yet.”

“Is that how you got the bruise on your face?” Ben asked gingerly like he always does. For a teenage boy he was great at handling adult situations. If he hadn’t been there when Dustin accidentally lit his hair on fire (don’t ask, it was traumatizing), the famous curls would have been no more.

“Probably,” Mike spoke up, “I’d punch him too.”

“Take your shot, Mikey, I have shit reflexes,” To emphasize his point, he tossed his spoon in the air and moved to catch it after it had already landed, “No, my dad gave me this sucker.” 

An awkward silence hung over the table before Lucas laughed, “No way, seriously, who beat you up?”

Richie didn’t say anything, just cocked an eyebrow in a way that said it all. Eddie’s eyes widened in response. His own mother was a terrible, emotionally abusive person, but she had never _ hit  _ him. No wonder Richie had moved all the way out here.

“I’m so sorry.” Eddie blurted out at the same time Will said  _ ‘Mike’  _ in a chastising tone.

“What? I didn’t know.” He replied defensively, a clear expression of guilt and defiance on his face.

“What are you sorry for, Eds? You got nothin’ to be sorry for. If you still feel bad, though, maybe a kiss would make it feel better?” He suggested, turning his cheek and leaning towards Eddie across the table.

“Gross, no.” Eddie’s lips turned down in disgust, but a blush rose onto his cheeks nonetheless. Something about Richie’s quick wit and grotesque jokes made him nervous and flustered. 

“Darn, it was worth a shot.” Richie sighed loudly, collapsing back against the red leather of the booth. Eddie felt the other boys giving the two of them weird looks, making him recoil against the booth, too. Will’s eyes met his with a comforting smile.  _ It’s okay, _ he was telling him through the telepathic bond they had formed over the years. Will was his best friend, no doubt about it. He was the only one who knew about Eddie’s…  _ condition, _ as his mother would put it. Will never made him feel like it was a disease, or something to be grossed out about. After hiding it for years, it felt so good to have someone listen to him talk about boys and crushes and all that good stuff. The kind of stuff he should be enjoying as a normal teenager. 

“Shit, what time is it?” He asked suddenly. 

“8:42.” Dustin said, tapping his fancy new watch he had purchased from the science museum. It had no numbers, just planets, and Eddie was doubtful it was very accurate.

“Shit. I need to be home by 9. Shit!” He scrambled out of the booth urgently.

“Hey, relax. I’m sure your mom will understand that you just lost track of time.” Richie said, but his confidence faltered when he saw the look on everyone else’s face.

“You don’t understand, if I’m not home on time, I won’t be allowed out of the house for weeks.” Richie took in the information with a confused look on his face. Eddie wondered if he had ever heard of a curfew in his life. 

“Did anyone drive a truck here?” Richie asked, standing up from the booth and putting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. If Eddie wasn’t so distraught his stomach would have done a few flips at the touch. Could anyone blame him? He was so paranoid about his sexuality that he rarely allowed himself to breathe in the direction of a guy he found even remotely attractive, let alone touch them. 

“I did,” Lucas said, “I should get headed home anyway, you could throw your bike in the back and I’ll drop you off.”

“See, Eddie Spaghetti? I got this.” 

“My hero,” Eddie deadpanned, thanking Lucas, “Please don’t ever call me that again.”

“It’s either that or Eds, dearie.”

Eddie didn’t respond, only rolled his eyes and waved goodbye to everyone. Richie dramatically blew him a kiss, and Eddie turned on his heel immediately to hide the red blush making its way down his cheeks and neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, what did we think of Eddie? Also, I'm sorry Mike's a turd, he hopefully won't be for long.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing Hopper & Richie's interaction so so much!! To be clear, Hopper never 'died' or went to Russia in this story. Season three happened, but Hopper survived. Also, let's just pretend he wasn't a smidge out of character in that season. Oh, one more thing, the WWF was what WWE was called in the 80s, and Ric Flair was a wrestler back then :)

There were perks to being the Chief of Police in a small town. Everyone respected Jim Hopper, but there wasn’t much crime to stop. Coffee at Jo’s Coffee House was always discounted, but most people didn’t bother him when he was reading his newspaper. There was a nice give and take to his job, an even balance. The only time that balance was skewed was when he was in over his head fighting the Upside Down. Mythical monsters emerged from an eerie, dark underworld and infiltrated Hawkins. Hopper never believed in mythical creatures, not even when he was a kid. Vampires were cheesy and Superheroes were unnaturally moral, none of it added up. Now, he had his very own Superhero daughter living in his house, throwing Eggos at him when she got a little too fired up. He loved her more than anything in this world, no matter how many waffles she chucked at him.

“Good morning, Chief!” Jo of Jo’s Coffee House called as he entered through the front door. The little bell rung above him and all the heads seated at the bar came to look at him. He rarely stayed to read the paper, it was always too crowded, with all the Dads in their 40’s coming here to read their newspapers and escape their kids. “One coffee to go?”

Jim nodded, pulling out some cash to pay. He observed the room. Observation was something he was always good at, it’s what made him a good cop, but ever since the Upside Down he would get antsy if he didn’t check his surroundings for suspicious activity. He would have never considered the man he was five years ago to be naive. Then, he would have waltzed into a place like this and sat down without looking around once. He would’ve sat with his back to the door, not looking up from his paper every time someone walked in. He was always on edge now, everybody was guilty until proven innocent. He wished he could go back to his ignorant days, but he figured everyone involved had some baggage left over from those traumatizing experiences. He knew Eleven did, even Mike. 

He was handed a coffee in a to-go cup and thanked Jo. A few of the men at the bar waved a goodbye to him. He didn’t bother to wave back. He exited the building, planning to go straight to his car, when a tall kid reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Top of the morning to ya!” The kid shouted, and Hop turned to look at him, “I’m lost, if you can believe that. This town is the size of an anthill, but here I am, fuckin’ lost. You look like somebody who knows their way around…” The kid tapped his badge, “... _ Chief. _ ”

Jim took in the stranger, large glasses and bushy hair and green-blue bruise blooming over his face. He squinted at him for several moments.

“I’m sorry,” He let out a laugh and leaned back, swiping at his mustache,  _ “Mike?” _

The kid snorted and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, “Just my fucking luck, of course you know Mike. No, I’m Mike’s cousin.”

Hopper stared at him for a little while longer. He looked similar to Mike, but there was something very different about him. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was the glasses. 

“Just  _ my _ fucking luck,” he returned, “I’m stuck dealing with a  _ more  _ annoying version of Mike Wheeler.” He could hear Joyce Byers telling him off in the back of his head.

The boy laughed, loud and open, “He  _ is  _ a little shit, isn’t he?” The statement made Jim let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“You got that right,” Usually he would’ve reprimanded some  _ teen _ for cursing at adults, but he decided to put that into his back pocket. He just had to give the kid some directions and he’d be out of his hair, anyway, “Where are you trying to get to, kid? I’m Chief Jim Hopper, by the way.”

To his surprise, the boy stuck a hand out to shake, and Jim did, “I’m Mr. Tozier, but you can just call me Richie, sonny! I’m trying to get to the arcade, Mikey said it was near the mall.”

Jim sighed, looking at the parking lot, “Well, Richie, I think  _ Mikey _ lied to you. The arcade is nowhere near the mall. It’s about seven minutes thataway.” He pointed to the left, away from StarCourt Mall that was only a few minutes to their right.

“Shit. Is that a uh, seven minute drive or seven minute walk?” Richie looked a bit deflated, like one of those blow-up noodles outside of car dealerships.

“Are you on foot? Jesus, kid. It’s about a 45 minute walk.” Hopper told him, feeling a little bad. 

“Ah, got it. Well, that’s alright. I’ll head back home. Thanks,  _ Chief _ .” He did a dramatic salute, but his boisterous personality from before was gone, replaced with a melancholy expression. The Chief of Police sighed, looking at the kid turning on his heel and back to his squad car.

“Hey, wait a minute. What if I drop you off? It’s, uh,” He pulled back his sleeve, checking his watch, “It’s about 11 now, and my lunch break is at 12:30. Could I pick you up at, say, noon and drop you back off at the Wheelers?”

Richie turned back around, a big, crooked smile beaming at him, “Really? That would be fuckin’ awesome, Chief!”

“Just-” Jim sighed, rubbing his forehead slowly, “Just tone down the cursing, alright?” 

Richie had already moved on, running over to the car and sliding his hands over the hood, “Rad! I get to ride in a cop car! And not because I broke the law, like my dad always said I would.”

“So are you visiting or somethin’, Dick?” Jim asked as the two of them settled into his vehicle. He watched Richie eye the pack of smokes in the cup holder and moved them to his breast pocket instead. The kid grinned widely, knowing he had been caught.

“I don’t go by Dick,” His smirk turned into a youthful laugh, “Rich is fine, though. But to answer your question, nah, I wouldn’t have visited this place on purpose. I’m living with my Aunt Karen and Uncle Ted now.” Jim grew uncomfortable as he started driving. There were a few reasons kids started living with their Aunt and Uncle, and none of them were good. 

“Somethin’... happen to your parents?” He asked carefully. His gaze shifted from the road back to Richie, only to find him looking fairly unbothered in the passenger seat, unbuckled. He grunted a command to put the seatbelt on.

“No. You see, my dad loves WWF, and he got a little too drunk and thought I was Ric Flair. And  _ BAM!  _ he socked me right in the face. Gave me this bad boy.” Richie gestured to his face, then crossed the seatbelt over his chest. Hopper felt his blood boil in response to Richie’s explanation. He had a temper, sure, there was no denying that. He could yell and slam doors and bang his fists on hard surfaces from time to time. But he would  _ never  _ have hurt Sarah or Eleven. 

“Your dad did that? What about your mom?” 

Richie shrugged and kicked his feet up on the dash, “My mom has been watching it happen for years. They said she was guilty of… child endangerment, or something like that. To be fair, she was usually so drunk she probably didn’t remember any of it anyway.” 

Hopper was surprised by the teenagers brutal honesty. In his experience, teenagers were always hiding something. Even as a teenager himself, he was constantly breaking rules with his partner-in-crime, Joyce. And sure, this kid probably broke rules all the time, too. But, his honesty was a breath of fresh air.

“Well, shouldn’t you be in school today if you’re moving here?” Jim asked, all his thoughts of breaking rules reminding him that it was, in fact, Monday.

“My old high school has to fax over my transcripts to this school before I can officially be enrolled, so my first day isn’t until tomorrow. It is so boring being trapped in a house with just my Aunt and an eight year old, so I planned to escape to the arcade. Don’t tell them that, they mean well.” Richie scrunched up his face then, like he was deep in thought, “So hey, what do you know about Mike? We never met until I moved here, if you can believe that. I’ve been trying to… win him over, but it isn’t working.”

Jim sighed heavily. What did he know about Mike Wheeler? A lot more than his parents, probably, “Just- Just give the kid some space, Rich. He can be… standoffish around strangers, but give it a few weeks. He might warm up to you if he doesn’t feel threatened by you.” After knowing the kid for four years and going to hell and back with him, he had learned a few things. He had experienced the same trauma as him. Mike didn’t trust strangers because he was scared they were going to hurt his girlfriend or best friend. Like he said before, they all had some baggage leftover from the past years.

“Some space,” Richie sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I’m not great with space, but I’ll try.”

* * *

Richie had been attending school with the same group of people for fifteen years. He knew everyone’s middle name and parents. There were no surprises, no new kids. 

Now, his whole world was turned upside down. He was lucky he at least had a chance to meet Mike’s friends before he started his first day, but he was still terrified. Richie Tozier, terrified.  _ That  _ was something he wouldn’t be caught dead saying. 

“Richie, hurry up hon, the bus is almost here,” Karen rubbed a gentle hand over his shoulder and he moved away from the touch, scarfing down the last of his eggs.

“Sorry, Aunt Karen, these eggs are just so damn good!”

“ _ Richard, _ ” Karen chastised, taking the empty plate from him as he grabbed his bag and bolted out the door after Mike.

The bus pulled up and both of them boarded. Several kids took notice of Richie and began whispering about him, but he wasn’t too shaken up about it. Being the new kid in a small town was a big deal. He just had to make a good first impression. Mike took a seat next to Will, who waved politely at him. A few kids nearby laughed and pointed, but not at him. They seemed to be whispering about Will. As he sat in the seat behind the two of them, he considered why the other students would be talking about Will.

“No. No way. You’re not sitting this close to me, go away.” Mike shooed him with his hands like a dog.

“Don’t make me go all Rosa Parks on your ass, Mikey.” Will was mildly amused by his comment, judging by the smirk on his face. Mike, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes, “It’s a free bus, kid and I don’t know anybody else here. Sorry to disappoint. ”

“It’s fine, Mike. You’ve never had to be the new kid anywhere, cut him some slack,” Will sweetly reigned in Mike’s anger, something he had to do often, Richie was sure. Mike grumbled an apology, not to Richie, but to Will. They both lowered their voices so he had to strain to hear them talking.

“I know, I know,” Will replied to Mike’s apology, “He doesn’t have to be part of the party, though. Just be nice to him.”

Richie slumped against the seat dramatically. The day was already off to a bad start. He waited a few moments before tapping Mike on the shoulder.

_ “What?”  _ Mike hissed.

“Does Eddie ride the bus?” Richie asked with a smile, pressing his chin on the top of Mike’s seat.

“No. His mom won’t let him. He wouldn’t sit next to you anyway. You’re annoying.” 

“You don’t know how good this handsome face is at convincing people to do stuff.” Richie pointed his thumbs at his face, earning an annoyed sigh and solitary confinement for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Eddie watched Will collapse at the lunch table between him and Mike. He looked exhausted, bags under his eyes and disheveled hair. Mike immediately took notice, turning to him with a concerned frown.

“Hey, Will, are you okay?” He asked softly, a look on his face that was reserved for Will and Will only. While he was definitely Eddie’s best friend, he couldn’t deny that he and Mike were incredibly close. It never bothered him, he wasn’t in competition with his friends. He loved them all and they all loved him.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Mike. I was just up all night studying for the Chem test and now that it’s over and I’m not on edge, I just…” He dropped his head onto Mike’s shoulder, “I’m tired.”

Mike leaned his head on top of Will’s after shoveling an apple slice into his mouth, “We can nap during that war documentary in history, okay? Make sure you eat something now, though.”

Eddie smiled at their conversation. He was glad Will had someone like Mike he could lean on, literally and figuratively. After what happened in the Upside Down…. well, it was something Eddie didn’t like to think about. When he did, it triggered a full panic attack, and he wasn’t even the one who had spent a week in there. Will tried to open up to him about it, but Eddie couldn’t do it, couldn’t bring himself to talk about that. He liked to think he was resilient, not brought to his knees by something as simple as a conversation topic, but that just wasn’t the truth. He couldn’t be there for Will, and he felt terrible about it. He was so grateful that Mike was willing to look after Will when he couldn’t.

His eyes wandered around the lunchroom, catching sight of a familiar head of hair and pair of glasses. He was holding a tray, scanning the lunchroom in a way that was unlike the extroverted teen he had met last night. He shifted on his feet awkwardly and looked like he was about to leave the building.

“Oh, hey. There’s Richie.” He announced to the table, standing up to wave him over.

“Don’t, Eddie. I don’t want him sitting here. I already have to deal with him at home.” Mike whined.

“Come on, Mike. He’s not that bad, right guys?” Everyone else at the table mumbled quietly, but nobody agreed with him, “Really?”

“He calls us all stupid nicknames. And he’s really, really loud,” Lucas said, sounding guilty.

Max looked at her boyfriend angrily, “Remember how Mike treated me when I wanted to be your friend? I do, and I don’t think anyone else deserves to feel that way.”

“I’ve said I’m sorry like a million times!” Mike replied defensively, but Eddie saw the guilt behind his eyes. Mike could be… difficult, but he knew when he was wrong.

“Max is right, and I don’t care what you think, anyway. I like him.” Eddie said, waving his hands at Richie across the cafeteria.

“Me too.” Ben said with a smile. Mike Hanlon patted him on the back in a way that said he agreed but didn’t want to speak his mind and rile Mike up further. Eddie adored Ben, the kid didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Neither did Hanlon for that matter, they were just two big softies inside and out. Eddie was too, but he protected himself with a hard exterior. 

Richie’s demeanor shifted from awkward to excited when he spotted Eddie. He came bounding towards them, sliding down the seat next to Eddie and poking his cheek.

“Hey, Eds, thanks for waving me over.” Eddie rolled his eyes at the nickname, remembering what Lucas said.

“Isn’t Richie short for Richard? You know what else is short for Richard? Dick. Maybe I should just start calling you Dick.”

“Dick may be short for Richard, but I can assure you  _ my  _ dick is  _ not. _ ” 

“Gross!” Mike shouted, startling Will.

“Whatever you say,  _ Dick _ .” Eddie quirked a brow, starting to eat his sandwich.

“That’s funny. The Chief of Police called me that yesterday.” Eddie’s eyes widened and he spluttered around his sandwich.

“ _ Hopper _ ?” Will asked, leaning forward to look past Eddie at Richie, “Did you get in trouble?”

“No, no. I met him outside of the coffee house. He gave me a ride to the arcade, and I also managed to nick his cigarettes from his pocket when I said goodbye,” Richie elbowed Eddie with a smirk, “I’m just  _ that _ good with my hands.” If there weren't any witnesses, Eddie would kill him. 

“I can’t believe you stole from Hopper and he hasn’t killed you yet.” Max piped up from across the table.

“Well, hello, fiery redhead,” Richie greeted Max in a tone Eddie hadn’t heard before, wiggling his eyebrows. Oh. He was flirting with her. He frowned a little, disappointed, but he couldn’t wait to see Lucas tell him off for hitting on his girlfriend.

“My name is Max,” She told him, observing him carefully.

“Max, I like it. I’m Richie. You remind me of my friend Bev, she’s a redhead too. Oh! You’d totally be her type, if she wasn’t so hung up on Bill.”

“Her… type?” Max replied slowly, shooting a confused look at Mike, who simply shrugged.

“You know, like… type of woman.” Richie shrugged as well, seemingly disinterested in the conversation now. He was squirting ketchup on his fries in the shape of a smiley face. Eddie, on the other hand, was listening intently. He could feel the rest of the group leaning in close, not wanting to miss a second of this conversation.

“Is she gay?” Lucas asked, whispering the end of the question. Eddie felt his cheeks burn with shame. He dreamt of a world where no one felt the need to whisper that word or give gay couples funny looks… or worse. He shuddered.

“No,” Richie said, much to the relief and confusion of everyone at the table, “She’s bisexual. Guys and girls, the whole shebang.”

Dustin started choking on whatever he was drinking, and Ben turned to look at Hanlon with a questioning expression.

Eddie noticed that Mike was surprisingly quiet, and he turned to check on him. He was staring at Richie with his mouth hanging open, glancing at Will who didn’t seem at all surprised by this information. Of course he wasn’t, he’d known Eddie was gay for two years, but Mike didn’t know that.

“Wow. I didn’t realize Hawkins was so close-minded. I mean, Derry  _ is  _ close-minded but… we have a gay bar. So it’s not all that bad.” Richie finished his ketchup masterpiece and began eating the fries. Eddie wondered how he could stay so calm with everyone looking at him that way.

There were several questions hanging in the air, but none were asked. Nobody had the time, because Troy Walsh- the idiot who had been bullying Eddie and the others since elementary school- cut in.

“Did one of you say something about a  _ gay _ bar?” He asked. He had merely been passing by, but of course Richie had caught his attention in the worst way possible. Eddie eyed him cautiously.

“Yeah, what about it, man?” Richie replied, as though he genuinely thought Troy was interested in knowing. He turned to face him, signature smile on his dorky face.

“Nothin’,  _ man _ . Just glad Byers and Kaspbrak over here are finally out of the closet,” Troy said in a way that was not at all congratulatory, “I always knew they were just a couple of-”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Richie cut him off, but his tone remained light and upbeat. If his arm wasn’t stretched out in front of Eddie protectively, he would have thought Richie didn’t understand the gravity of his situation. He was flattered at the chivalrous gesture, but he would prefer if Richie just let him spew a few insults and leave. It was easier than what had happened in middle school, when Mike had been forced to jump off a cliff. He was lucky he had survived. 

“What are you going to do to stop me?” Troy growled, voice changing from a taunt to a low growl. Nobody at their table moved to calm the situation, and Eddie couldn’t blame them. They were all a little terrified to see Troy’s breaking point. Dustin nearly lost his teeth last time he snapped.

“Should we break your arm again?” Mike cut in, standing up from the table. Eddie wanted to grab him and yank him back down to the bench, but he sat there paralyzed. 

“ _ She’s _ not here to protect you anymore, frogface.” Max held tightly onto Lucas’ hand, like she was trying to stop herself from saying something. Troy walked from Richie to Mike slowly. Goosebumps rose on Eddie’s neck.

Richie, who must have been incredibly confused at what they were talking about, snorted a laugh, “Frogface? Seriously, that’s the best you can do?” Eddie caught his eye and shook his head quickly, trying to tell him to stop. Richie opened his mouth to say more, but Mike was already cutting him off.  


“Why don’t you just get lost, Troy? If you stick around any longer, you might wet your pants again.” Mike was taller than Troy, but not bigger. Mike was like a stick, skinny with no muscle, and Troy was on the wrestling team. 

“Again? Holy shit, dude.” Richie let out a high-pitched giggle that Eddie would’ve loved to hear in any other situation.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you someday, Wheeler.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” Mike announced, much to Eddie and Will’s dismay. Will was pulling on his sleeve, telling him to sit down with a worried look on his face. Mike usually didn’t talk back like this anymore, but the egotistical competitiveness he felt with Richie seemed to spur him on. 

“Mike, stop. Please.” Will said loudly, fingers wrapped around Mike’s. He squeezed his hand desperately in an attempt to get his attention, “Just leave it alone, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, listen to your boyfriend,” Troy agreed with a smirk on his face. Mike met Will’s eyes and softened. 

“Just, fuck off, Troy.” Mike said as the bell rang, but he wasn’t looking at Troy anymore. He was apologizing to Will, sitting down on the bench once again. Troy headed off towards his class, and Eddie turned to look back at Richie.

“You’re gonna get yourself another bruise, Richard,” he chastised, standing up with his tray of food, “It’s easier to just leave Troy alone.”

“And let him have his way, insulting all of you? No can do, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie followed after him with his own tray. His eyes had an intense hold on Eddie’s, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Eddie hated that his control over his own body was gone, he couldn’t look away. He fought against his own body, trying to focus on something,  _ anything  _ else. But Richie had other plans, reaching his hand out after returning his tray to the top of the trash can and pinching Eddie’s cheek, “Cute, cute, cute!”

With that, Richie left, leaving Eddie alone to stare at the space he had previously occupied for so long, he was nearly late to his next class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts??? I love hearing from you all! Who's excited for Chapter Two??? Eek!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get to see Chapter Two tomorrow! Woohoo!

Karen Wheeler was minding her business, cleaning Holly’s play area when a loud pounding on the door startled her. She sighed loudly, all of the kids had just left for school and she was enjoying her peace and quiet. With the new addition to the house, there was rarely a quiet moment. As it turned out, Richie _ loved _to talk. When he wasn’t chatting on the phone with one of his old friends, he was following her around talking to her. The only time she’d gotten some peace was when he took off to go to the arcade. 

Another bang resounded through the house. Who was knocking this early in the morning anyway? She looked up at the gold analog clock hanging above the fireplace. _ Oh. _It was three in the afternoon. The kids would be back in fifteen minutes. She got too lost in her cleaning frenzy, picking up the juice boxes Richie stubbornly refused to throw away and moving his ridiculously large shoes off of the stairs. 

“Karen? Ted? It’s Chief Hopper!” Jim called from outside, expression unchanging as Karen opened the door. He looked the same as he always did- bored and mildly angry. 

“Is everything okay?” Karen asked, startled. 

“No,” Jim replied, walking past her into the living room, “is your nephew here?”

Karen sighed and shook her head. Of course this was about Richie, that kid was all kinds of trouble. She mentally reprimanded herself, remembering that Richie had been through a lot. _ That doesn’t mean he gets to make everyone else's life a living hell, though. _

“Well, your _ lovely _ nephew stole my cigarettes. I’d appreciate it if you gave him a warning to not mess with the Chief of Police.” Jim nodded his head as his own way of saying goodbye, and headed for the door. Karen’s face flushed from embarrassment, her kids would _ never _steal anything. Now Richie was messing with her reputation as a mother.

“I’m so sorry, he’s just-” She was cut off by the front door opening and Richie running through it, straight into Chief Hopper’s chest.

“Ouch.” Richie stated, moving aside and rubbing his shoulder, “What are you doing here, Chief? Miss me already?” 

Karen sighed deeply, putting her hand over her face. Mike walked in behind Richie and curiously eyed the situation. 

“Are you really stupid enough to steal cigarettes from the Chief of Police?” Hopper asked and Karen felt nervous. She wasn’t used to dealing with angry men, didn’t like to. She’d married Ted because he was calm, albeit a little boring. He never raised his voice at her or the kids. He was a good man, the best kind of man she could ask for in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Oh, were those yours?” Richie responded. Mike rolled his eyes and looked at his mother in a way that made her feel guilty. _ She _ was responsible for inviting this behavior into their home. She was the _ mother, _it was her duty to protect Mike and Holly from these things. Just as she thought this, Holly came through the door as well. 

“Hopper, I understand why you’re upset, but would you mind if we do this somewhere else, not in front of my children?” She didn’t mean for it to happen, but her voice came out a little pitched, a bit strung-out, the way her mother talked about homeless people in their area or criminals. The tone wasn’t lost on Richie, whose shoulders hunched down in betrayal. 

Jim nodded and allowed Karen a few moments to ask Mike and Holly to go upstairs to their respective bedrooms, then they relocated to the kitchen.

“Richie,” Karen said as she poured a glass of water, “Would you please apologize to Chief Hopper for stealing? You know, if you were any older you could have been arrested for this. You’re lucky that he is giving you a warning.”

“Arrested? For a pack of cigarettes? It was mostly empty anyway. There were only three left.” Richie wasn’t necessarily defiant, but he wasn’t planning on apologizing either. He crossed his arms over the front of his button up shirt and huffed disrespectfully. Karen’s hands shook as she brought the glass to her lips.

“I don’t know what your parents allowed in their house, Richie, but stealing isn’t allowed in mine. I don’t feel like that’s too much to ask.”

“Anything is too much to ask. You’re not my mom, you’re my Aunt,” Richie looked between her and the Chief of Police, like he was contemplating something, “I…” He trailed off, looking down at his feet.

Hopper seemed to have a change of heart. His demeanor shifted and he planted his two large palms on the pink kitchen counter. Karen realized with a tinge of embarrassment that there were crumbs still on it from the toast they ate that morning.

“Listen, Rich,” he started, trying to make eye contact with the boy, “I won’t steal your stuff, and you won’t steal mine. It’s called respect. Let’s respect each other, okay?”

Richie looked up from the tile floor with an expression Karen had not yet seen. She couldn’t tell what it was. Embarrassment? Confusion? The typically loud and foul-mouthed boy didn’t do anything but nod in response.

“Okay,” Hopper said, like there had been a great deal more communication than there had been. Karen would never understand men, no matter how young or old they were. She excused Richie from the kitchen anyway, and watched as he meekly turned back around towards his room.

* * *

Richie was not the kind of person to give up easily. He was stubborn and difficult, as Stan always reminded him, and he was defiant. He hated being told what to do and treated like he was too stupid to make his own decisions. Which is why, when Hopper and Karen were scolding him, he had no intention of owning up and apologizing. 

But then, there was something about what Hop had said. He wasn’t telling Richie what to do, like he had originally thought he was. It was something different, the way he phrased it. He was giving Richie a choice. He had used the word ‘respect’. Richie had only ever regarded that word with a stony glare and cold heart.

_ “When will you learn some respect for your parents?” _

_ THWACK. _

Hopper had used it differently though. He had said he respected _ Richie. _ Richie didn’t think adults were supposed to respect kids. But why not? Why didn’t he deserve respect? Because he was young? Well, that didn’t make sense. His father was a grown man who physically abused his child. He certainly didn’t deserve his respect. Some of the smartest, most amazing people he knew were his age. They deserved respect. Adults had transformed respect into a weapon to use against young kids who had yet to understand that they deserved respect too, because they were human. Hopper had taken that weapon and put it back into the hands of Richie, giving him a choice over who he wanted to respect, and now, he respected Hopper more than any adult he had ever met, because there was no ‘because I said so!’. 

“I’m sorry about him, Hopper.” He heard Karen say quietly, voice barely above a whisper. He _ was _planning on going back to his room, but eavesdropping was more interesting.

“It’s alright. He’s… I think he means well, I really do. I was a difficult kid, too.” Hopper sighed, and it made Richie smile a little. Who would have thought the Chief of Police was a troubled teenager?

“He’s just… he grew up with my sister, who is a terrible person. I know he’s been through a lot, but I just wish Maggie had never reproduced. It would have been easier.” Karen let out a teetering, nervous laugh, and the smile on Richie’s face fell. He didn’t want to think about it, but the thought slipped into his head anyway.

_ In all the sixteen years you’ve been alive, nobody has ever wanted you around. Not your friends, not your parents, not even your Aunt or cousins. _

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, you know,” Mike whispered. Richie grinned over at him, because as much as this kid claimed he didn’t like Richie, he was saving his ass by whispering instead of announcing to the whole house that he was being a Nosy Nellie. He shrugged in response, following Mike down the stairs to the basement. 

“Why are you following me?” Mike groaned, shooting a glare back at Richie, stumbling over a step in the process.

“I’m bored. Careful there, slick. You don’t want to end up with a bruise on your mug like me.” 

“I can give you another one of those, you know.” Mike threatened, making Richie giggle. He saw a small smile dance along Mike’s lips and he started to feel at ease. 

“I’d like to see you try, noodle arms.”

“We look the same! You have noodle arms, too!”

“Aha! So you admit it, we do look a _ little _alike.” Richie returned, surprised at the banter they had going.

“Maybe a _ little. _ But I’m the better looking one, contrary to your claims.” Mike was actually _ smirking _ at Richie teasingly. Richie stuck his tongue out at him as the conversation died down.

“Hey, so,” he started as he landed at the bottom of the stairs, “Who was that girl Troy was talking about at lunch?”

The air went still, Mike’s shoulders tensing around his neck. Richie felt like he had struck a nerve, but he wasn’t sure why. 

“Nobody,” Mike said coldly, reaching up to get a box off of the shelf that read _ Dungeons and Dragons. _ Richie wanted to prod, but he remembered Hopper’s advice- _ ‘Just give him some space’. _

“Oh! Dungeons and Dragons! I’ve always wanted to play that, is it fun?” He hoped that Mike would relax again after the subject change, but he seemed to build his walls up further, simply nodding at Richie’s question.

“Are you going to play with your friends?” He asked as his cousin began walking up the stairs again, following close behind. Mike nodded again and opened the basement door, “Not to invite myself but… could I come?”

“You are inviting yourself, and the answer is no,” Mike returned, slamming the door in his face, the wood coming inches from his nose.

_ Ouch. _

* * *

Max, Lucas, Will, and Eddie had all gotten together at Lucas’ house to play DnD that night, and things were going well. They were having a good time, about halfway through the campaign, when Eddie just had to ask:

“Hey, so where’s Richie?”

Mike sighed. Why did Eddie like Richie so much? He was annoying, and loud, and he pushed things way too far.

“He’s at home, Eddie.” He answered. Everyone else at the table seemed to accept this answer, except Eddie.

“So he didn’t want to come? I figured he’d like DnD.”

“No, he didn’t want to come,” Mike lied, looking over his divider, “And also… he was getting too close. He started asking about Eleven.” 

“What? How does he know about Eleven? Did you say something?” Lucas asked, concern hidden in his accusation. 

“No. He just heard what Troy said at lunch and asked who he was talking about. I don’t need him finding out anything, he has a big mouth. We can’t let him get too close.”

Max sighed, looking over at him, then back at the pieces on the table, “I doubt he’d say anything if he knew people’s lives were at stake. You’re just looking for an excuse to get rid of him.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will nod in agreement.

“No, I’m not! I’m trying to keep my girlfriend and best friends safe,” He shot a glare at Will, his way of saying ‘I’m doing this to protect you!’. Will looked down at the sweater covering his hands, then over at Eddie.

“Mike, you don’t have to push everyone away,” Eddie reminded him, voice soft with no traces of irritation, “Not everybody is out to get you. Especially not your cousin.”

“Why is your head stuck so far up his ass, anyway?” Mike asked angrily, earning an elbow to the ribs from Will. Eddie’s expression remained concerned, which was quite a feat for him. Usually him and Mike were at each other's throats during a conversation like this, “I’m sorry,” Mike apologized quietly. It was unusual for an apology to come from him, and every time he did it felt like he was admitting weakness.

“It’s fine, Mike. If anyone understands your aversion to strangers, it’s us. But, we have to move on. It’s not healthy to stay stuck in the past.”

“Well, you’re one to talk! You can’t even _ think _about what we went through without ending up on your knees having a panic attack. Yeah, Will told me!” He knew it was unfair, throwing Will under the bus like that, but he was tired of Eddie being so hypocritical. If he had pushed the anger away and stopped to think for a second, he would have realized that Eddie was only trying to take care of them and help them through their trauma. Mike was never one to stop and think when he was upset, though. 

“You’re an asshole, Mike,” Eddie announced, standing up and grabbing the bag he came with, “You’re so scared of letting people in, that you’re not going to have anyone left when you finish pushing all of us away.”

Everyone at the table begged him to stay, but he was already out the door. If Mike would let himself think for a second, he’d realize how badly Eddie was hurting too. He’d realize that Eddie was just as scared of strangers as Mike was. He’d realize that Eddie loved him dearly and only wanted what was best for him. But, with trauma came a dangerous game of tag. All of them were running away from their thoughts as fast as they could, and they were tired. Mike was so tired of running away from his thoughts, with a shield in hand, carrying the weight of all of his friends and dead loved ones on his shoulders.

So, when he started to bike back home, he finally broke. He let the thoughts crowd into his brain like air into a balloon, and he cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the whole blip about respect made sense. As a teenager, I was always annoyed at the idea of respecting adults simply because the were adults, and I feel like Richie could use someone respecting him and treating him the way he deserves, to help him understand that adults aren't always bad. Also, I hope this chapter helps conjure some understanding for Mike's anger and pettiness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how in love with this chapter I am, but I sat on it for a very long time and figured I should just post it.

Richie should not have been awake, but he was starting to get worried. It was nearing midnight and Mike still hadn’t come home from his Dungeons & Dragons party… or whatever it was called. Karen had wandered out from her bedroom at about 10:30, looking at the door, then at Richie who had been coming down the stairs.

“Has Mike come home yet?” She asked, a hint of concern in her voice. Richie knew he hadn’t, but figured ratting on him would only put him further in the dog house.

“Uh, yeah… He asked me to come downstairs and get some water for him, actually.” Richie had told her, putting her at ease and buying his cousin a bit more time to be out past curfew. 

Now, though, with the clock only seven minutes away from midnight, Richie was beginning to regret it. Where would Mike be at this time of night? Surely, the game could not go on for this long, right?

Richie laid on the pink quilt- Karen had still not taken him out to get new stuff for his room- and stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t a worrier, usually. He typically just let things happen as they were meant to. But tonight, with the silence eating him alive, he started to think. 

He thought about a clown twisting its body round itself, head spinning backwards and joints dislocating as it danced to a carnival song. He thought about blood and amputated arms and a missing persons poster. He wasn’t missing. He was here. But what if Mike was missing?

He jumped up from the bed, snatching a navy blue sweater off of the dresser and pulling it over his naked chest. He stuffed beat up converse on his feet as the ticking of the clock grew louder. _Tick, tick, tick,_ _Mike could be dying,_ the clock taunted him. No, that wasn’t true. Mike was fine. The clown was gone. 

But it gnawed at him still, that feeling in the back of his head. The urge to protect the people he loved. Richie Tozier wasn’t a runner, he was a fighter. So, out the window he slipped, over the curve of the roof and onto the soft, manicured lawn. He stumbled, twisting his ankle in the process, but ultimately landed well. He pushed the glasses up his nose and walked towards the front of the house, heading out of the mouth of the cul-de-sac. 

_ “Mike!”  _ He whisper-shouted, looking left and right. He didn’t know where he was going, but his legs pushed him further.

* * *

Mike pedaled faster, tears streaming down his face, blurring his vision. He needed to stop crying, he was being so stupid. He was sixteen, for crying out loud! Sixteen year olds don’t cry this much, especially without having a good reason to. Will, he had a good reason to. All the times Will had broken down in front of him, Mike never batted an eye. Will had been through so much, he was allowed to break down. But Mike, he had only stood idly by, dragging people into harm's way and not helping any of them. Will, Bob, even his sisters friend, Barb. Even Eleven. All of them, one way or another, had ended up in danger because of Mike.

As a sob made its way out of his throat, he realized he was lost. If he could clear the tears out of his eyes, he could see well enough to get back on track. He just had to focus. He blinked, once, twice. His pedaling slowed and he squinted. In the streetlight, he saw a tall creature, staring at him.  _ The demogorgon.  _

He cried out, twisting the handles of his bike to the right, sending himself over the edge of a hill through some trees. He hit a tree, jerked his ankle back when it hit a rock, and shouted when his spine landed against something hard and jagged, perhaps another rock. When he came to a stop, he paid no mind to the pain, but instead looked up the steep embankment to search for the demogorgon again. Was he bleeding? Would it smell him?

He eyed the streetlight cautiously, waiting for it to flicker. As he stared, it dawned on him, the lights hadn’t flickered once, not even when he saw the creature standing under it.  _ It wasn’t real.  _ It was a figment of his imagination. His eyes and cheeks burned hot with shame, and he tried to claw his way up the embankment as fresh tears fell down his face.

“Ah!” He cried as a searing pain shot through his ankle to his knee. He grasped onto it, trying to see what was wrong. He pressed it against an angular rock but the pain didn’t return until it was flexed at the angle his foot would need to be at to climb the hill.  _ Shit. _

* * *

Richie wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, but something inside him told him to keep going. He didn’t have ‘gut feelings’ often, so he knew this one must be important. 

As he rounded a corner, he saw that it was noticeably darker with only one streetlight. He promised himself after walking down this street he would head back and tell his Aunt that Mike was missing. 

That was when he heard it- a quiet mumbling that verged on hysterical. It was very faint and far away, but he could definitely hear it. A few pitched sobs sounded, and he realized the sounds were coming down the deep, dark embankment to his left. He called Mike’s name as loudly as he could without waking anyone in the houses nearby.

“W-who is that? Richie?” Came the voice, small and afraid. He looked down into the darkness.

“It’s Richie. That’s you, Mike, right? Are you okay?”

“N… no. My ankle, I sprained it or something. I can’t walk up the hill.” Richie regarded the darkness with hesitation. He recalled the clown luring him away from Bill using Stan’s voice. No, now wasn’t the time to have a meltdown or be afraid. Mike needed help.

“Don’t move, I’m coming down there,” He turned around and crawled backwards down the hill, using the sound of Mike’s heavy breathing to guide him. As he got closer, he was able to make Mike out, sitting up, looking defeated and, as he met his eyes,  _ terrified _ . He looked utterly terrified of Richie, “Hey, it’s just me, relax.” Richie said easily, in the tone he had developed after Neibolt. Stan, Bev, and Bill all had episodes, and Richie was always there to talk them through it. It came naturally at this point.

“I fell down the stupid fucking embankment on my bike. I don’t even know where it is now.” Mike huffed, voice high and thick with tears. He threw himself back down on the ground and hissed when his head hit a rock.

“Jesus, aren’t you injured enough already? Give it a rest, kid,” Richie said, but he knew it sounded nothing like his usual self.

“I’m not a kid, I’m the same age as you,” Mike weakly argued, but Richie was already down around his ankle, pushing the bottom of his jeans up. It looked swollen and lightly bruised, “It doesn’t even hurt that bad until I’m trying to climb up the hill, then it hurts so bad I can’t even think straight.”

“It doesn’t look too bad, but I bet you bruised the medial ligament.” Richie rubbed his thumb over said ligament gently.

Mike furrowed his eyebrows, not annoyed, only confused, “How do you know what it’s called?” He used his elbows to prop himself up and Richie realized for the first time just how much he must have been crying. Red rings circled his eyes and his face glistened in the moonlight, wet with tears. Seeming to also notice this, Mike’s sleeves came up to wipe away the wetness on his cheeks.

“Believe it or not, Mikey, I pay attention in school.”

“Right,” Mike snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You know, I could just leave you out here,” Richie teased, making sure to shoot a smile at Mike so he knew he was only joking, “How dumb do you think I am? A 2.5 GPA? Seriously, what’s your honest guess?”

Mike twisted his lips, “Well, I didn’t think you were  _ that  _ stupid, but I dunno, a 3.3?”

“Oof,” Richie responded, clutching at his chest, “You wound me.”

“Then what is it?” Mike asked curiously, seeming to relax significantly more than he had been before.

“4.0,” Richie said quickly. He didn’t  _ love  _ to brag, but he  _ did _ like the look of shock that Mike’s face displayed, “Told you, I pay attention in school.”

“Can you blame me for being surprised with all the dumb jokes you make?” Richie laughed aloud at that, looking toward the top of the embankment, then back at Mike.

“Let’s come back for your bike tomorrow, okay? I just need to figure out how to get your dumbass out of here. How do you even accidentally drive over a fucking hill like this?”

“Hey!” Mike threw his hands up defensively, “I was-” He cut his argument off suddenly, hands collapsing back by his sides. He just shrugged instead which was odd for him, but Richie brushed it off, opting instead to wrap an arm around his middle and pull Mike’s arm across his shoulders.

“Hold on tight, okay?” He said as he hoisted them both up. They teeteered, almost falling over but Richie managed to keep it together. As he turned them around to face the top, Mike whimpered. Richie looked over at him with concern and the arm holding him up squeezed tighter.

“I’ll be fine once we get up there, I promise. I just need you to carry me to the top.”

“I’m  _ so  _ telling everyone about my grand rescue mission of the damsel in distress tomorrow.”

“You will not!” Mike exclaimed, shooting daggers at him. Richie cackled and set on his way, pulling Mike up to the top of the hill. He was far from in shape, sweating profusely and breathing heavily, but he managed to get him all the way up without collapsing. Once they were up there, Mike tested his ankle and discovered he was, in fact, able to walk, albeit with a slight limp, “Hey, how come mom didn’t come with you?”

“Well,” Richie began, wringing his hands, “I kinda thought you were skipping curfew so I did you a favor and covered for you.”

“Wait, so she has no idea we’re gone?” Richie shook his head, “Great, so now we have to walk all the way back home.”

Richie stammered around his words for a moment, “Well, c’mon. We’ll both have an awesome story to tell our kids someday,” Mike still seemed irritated, “I’m sorry, I really am. Every time I try to do something nice I always fuck it up.”

“Was you stealing Hopper’s cigarettes your way of trying to do something nice, too?” Mike asked, but he was laughing. Richie let himself laugh, too, as they both started in the direction of the house. His brain was screaming unanswered questions, but he recalled Hopper’s words.  _ Give him some space. _

Richie did, opting instead to bicker with him the whole walk home, causing fits of laughter that made Richie feel a lot better than he had since first coming to Hawkins. The mission of sneaking Mike upstairs without waking Karen was one worthy of a Saturday Night Live bit that had them both in stitches of silent laughter, tears streaming from their eyes. Once they both landed on Mike’s bed, side by side, their cheeks were stinging from all the giggles.

Mike grabbed a pillow with a Star Wars design and shoved it under his ankle. He snatched out the pillow under Richie’s head and put it under his own. 

“Hey!” Richie whisper-shouted, smiling nonetheless. He punched Mike in the arm several times before letting his head thump back against the mattress. 

“What? I needed a pillow for my ankle  _ and  _ my head,” Mike wriggled in the bed, still in his jeans and polo from that morning, before speaking up again, “Hey… thank you.”

“For what, Mikey?” Richie asked, taking a bouncy ball from the bedside table and tossing it up and down.

“For, um, walking all the way out there to get me. I… I kinda thought I might die there. Which is stupid, I know, but I was panicking. I just didn’t think anyone would come looking for me.” Richie caught the ball, but didn’t throw it back up again. He grew very quiet, deep in thought. He reached over to turn the lamp off before answering.

“Don’t thank me for stupid things like that. Of course I’d come looking for you.” 

He didn’t know why he said it with such certainty, like they’d known each other for years, but it was true. There had been a pull in his gut, like a telepathic connection. It was the same feeling that was keeping him grounded to Mike’s bed, telling him that Mike couldn’t be alone tonight. Richie briefly wondered if it was the same telepathic connection he felt to his friends back home, after everything they had been through, but by the time he finished the thought he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I saw Chapter Two and I am so beyond happy with the way the film turned out. Also, PJ, Isaiah, Andy, and Barbara all showed up at the screening I went to in LA!


End file.
